
5 months ago
A sleek grey cat with glowing yellow eyes walks calmly through a narrow, shadowy alley moments after a bomb explodes inside a crumbling brick wall with a large, jagged hole in it. The alley is dimly lit by a flickering streetlamp overhead. Smoke still curls from the debris, and the pavement is slick, reflecting the soft glow of a distant neon sign. Trash bins, torn posters, and graffiti-covered bricks frame the scene. From the destroyed wall, dozens of rats had burst out during the explosion—but now, silence fills the air. The grey cat, its fur lightly dusted with ash, moves with quiet precision, its expression a mix of focus and eerie calm. It begins picking up the limp bodies of the rats one by one, placing them in a neat pile near the wall. The cat’s glowing yellow eyes scan the alley carefully, making sure it misses none. The atmosphere is tense, strange, and unsettling—something between cleanup and ritual.